Come to Me
by Jakia
Summary: Come find me when you’ve figured it out. When you finally realize that you hate your father, that you hate this war, and death, and blood. I will forgive you. But first, realize that you need to be forgiven. [zutara, some jetara later one. part 2 up]
1. A Letter to No One

We shall meet again, my Prince.

We shall meet again, or we shan't meet at all, because we'll be dead and gone and the world reborn, if that's the case. I believe we will meet again, if only because you need me. You don't know _why_ you need me, but you do. You'll hunt the world once more, my Prince, but this time it will be to find _me_, not Aang the Avatar, who you need for your _honor_.

And I will be waiting for you.

Come find me when you've figured it. When you finally realize that you hate your father, that you hate this war, and death, and blood. Come to me for solace, for forgiveness. Look for me in the stars and the heavens. Come to me with tears in your eyes. Come with a stone face and walls around your heart. When you're finally tired of being alone, seek me out.

I will forgive you.

But first, realize that you need to be forgiven.

And when you do, come find me.

I'll wait for you by the stream at the end of the world, where the grass always smells of morning dew and the sun and the moon share the same sky. I'll wait for you in the endless desert, a wandering mirage your mind tricks you into believing. I'll be the statue of a goddess in the palace of your birth, made of stone and gold and not alive, but you'll stare at me just the same, if only for the blue in my eyes.

I don't know where I'll be, for sure, only that when you need me, you'll find me, and there I'll be.

I don't know _when_ you'll find me, either. Perhaps I will be old, as old as my Gran-Gran and just as wise, with a blue-eyed granddaughter to call my own. You'll come to me out of a dream, with tired eyes and graying hair, but you'll be the same. Perhaps you'll have a desolate nephew of your own trailing after you, with a scowl that could rival your own. Our eyes will meet as your boots clinch in the snow, and you'll realize just how long it's been since we've seen each other last. You'll collapse in my arms, exhausted and desperate and finally, _finally,_ aware of what you really need.

I will heal you then, my Prince, if only because I promised to once, and you've lived with your father's hatred for long enough.

Maybe you'll find me sooner. Maybe I won't be an old hag but a young woman, a grown woman, with breasts and hips and a husband, to boot. You'll wander in as if by accident, and oh what a surprise, such a good surprise, it will be to see you again. We'll talk for hours as if we were the best of friends, almost lovers, instead of mere acquaintances who shared one heart-felt conversation together in a cave. I'll have a haggle of children to call my own, who will watch you curiously even though I've told them to go to bed.

And then you will go to leave (really, you must leave, it wouldn't be right for you to stay), and I'll kiss you. Hard. Passionately. After all, isn't that what you came out here for, but didn't know it? In some ways, that's healing, too, because now you are free. Lost, confused, and still so very unsure, but you have my forgiveness and maybe my love, and that's all you've ever really needed, isn't it?

…Maybe I'm thinking too broadly. Maybe I'm not giving you enough credit—you _are_ stubborn, my Prince, but all people learn in time. Maybe you'll come to me in a week, a month, a year, the same broken boy you've always been, with a sword in your hand and blood on your face and fire in your eyes. You'll stare at me from across the field where we both stand, as sunset, with you at the end with a falling sun and me at the side of the rising moon. You'll look at me as if I'm a stranger, a friend, a lover to you. And when the sun finally sets you'll finally allow yourself to fall to the ground, almost dead and ready to die.

I'll catch you, my Prince. And I won't let you die. And when you wake up, you can tell me of every petty mortal sin you've ever done, of every wrong that's ever been done against you, because for some strange reason you've never had a problem opening your heart to me. Maybe it's because you know I'm listening.

Come find me, my Prince. Come find me before the world ends.

With all my love,

_Katara_

XXX  
END

A/N: There will be more. Meh, it didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped it would. Ah well. It works.

And there is totally snow on the ground and I'm out of school. SCORE!

jak


	2. The Side of the Setting Sun

**Title**: Come to Me  
**Author**: Jakia  
**Word Count**: 1673  
**Pairings**: Zutara, though there is some Jetara later on  
**Chapters**: 2/7  
**Summary**: Come find me when you've figured it. When you finally realize that you hate your father, that you hate this war, and death, and blood. I will forgive you. But first, realize that you need to be forgiven

* * *

…_Maybe I'm thinking too broadly. Maybe I'm not giving you enough credit—you are stubborn, my Prince, but all people learn in time. Maybe you'll come to me in a week, a month, a year, the same broken boy you've always been, with a sword in your hand and blood on your face and fire in your eyes. You'll stare at me from across the field where we both stand, as sunset, with you at the end with a falling sun and me at the side of the rising moon. You'll look at me as if I'm a stranger, a friend, a lover to you. And when the sun finally sets you'll finally allow yourself to fall to the ground, almost dead and ready to die._

* * *

The sun was setting in the west, and he would die when it set.

He was tired. So very tired. And so ready to die. It pained him to think that; he was, of course, so young, and he had done so little in his life. But he was so tired…and what was it that the Blue Dragon had told him so long ago in his dream? That's right—_sleep_.

He was ready to sleep. Forever. He would fall to the ground soon, and he would sleep and never wake up.

_Never wake up._

Oh Spirits, he was going to _die_. What had he accomplished in his life, however short it was? Nothing—he had done _nothing_. He was a failure. Just like father always thought.

Why had he sided with Azula? He should've known she would stab him, quite literally, in the back sooner or later. Maybe he _did_ know she would kill him, and he sided with her anyway.

Oh Spirits, it _hurt_. It hurt so much. It hurt to die, just like it had hurt to live. Dying was hurting him worse than anything had ever hurt him before, even his scar.

He wanted…comfort. A pillow. His mother. Uncle. That blue-eyed girl. _Something_ to make it stop hurting.

Mostly, he wanted to not be alone. He hated being alone. He might've been a loner most of his life, but now that he was dying he wanted someone, _anyone_, to be there. Why couldn't the spirits grant him that one wish? _Don't let me die alone!_

Then he saw her in the distance.

It was her. _She_. Whatever her name had been. She had offered to heal him once, and then he sided with Azula and became her enemy again. Standing with her back facing the moon, she watched him carefully, suspiciously, with a look of horror played along her face.

Thank the gods she was here. Now he wouldn't die alone. She would be here.

He must've looked horrible to her. Pale faced, bloody from head to toe, and unnaturally thin and ready to die. She was horrified to see him; scared, too, though mostly distraught. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head: _What is **he** doing here? Oh Spirits, what happened? What am I suppose to do…?_

He blinked back tears.

"I'm sorry." He croaked out, his voice shaky and hoarse. He would apologize. "I'm so sorry."

He fell to the ground as the last of the sunlight left the western sky.

* * *

"_Stop healing him, Katara. Have you forgotten who he is? He's _Zuko_, our enemy. He betrayed you, remember? Stop healing him—he doesn't deserve to live."_

"_Shut the hell up, Sokka."_

_Warmth. Water. Dark hands. Where was he?_

"_Even Dad says you should let him die. 'Keep no prisoners,' remember? Besides, if he wakes up he'll know where our hideout is and our whole plan will be worthless!"_

"…"

"_Didn't think about that, did you? Spirits, Katara, you never think! He'll fucking lead his father's godforsaken army right to our doorstep and kill us all!"_

_It was so nice here. Was this heaven?_

"_Shut up, Sokka. Get out of here."_

"_Not until you stop. He doesn't deserve to live. He's a **monster**, the Fire Lord's **son**…"_

"_I said get the hell out of here, Sokka. **Now**."_

_Funny. He would've thought heaven was quieter._

"_--Fine. But if that bastard does so much as breathe wrong, I'm killing him in his sleep."_

"_You'll do no such thing. **Get out**."_

_Weak. So tired. Why was he so tired? Yet it was so warm, so very warm._

_Soft hands. Soft, brown hands, on his face. "Don't listen to my brother. You're safe, Prince Zuko."_

He woke up slowly, deliriously. Her hands felt good against his skin. So soft. Like silk. And water. Nice water, not like the wild water she had before. This water is calm, cool.

Beautiful.

He faded in and out of consciousness several times, but each time he woke up there were brown hands caressing his face and blue eyes staring at him in worry.

He wanted to speak to her, but he could not find his voice. A thousand and one questions raced through his mind, but he could not find the strength to ask them.

_Why am I here?_

_Why did you heal me?_

_You should've let me die._

_Thank the Spirits you didn't let me die._

_Your hands are soft._

_I'm sorry I wronged you in the past._

Hours later, maybe even days, he had no way of knowing how long he was in this state of in between, he finally found his voice buried somewhere deep in his throat.

"What's your name?" He slurred tiredly, his voice jumbling like he had rocks in his mouth.

She smiled down at him, brushing a stray dark hair out of his face. "Katara." She said softly,

"Katara." He whispered back, the name sounding strangely sweet on his tongue. "_Katara._"

He slept for a long time after that.

_

* * *

I'll catch you, my Prince. And I won't let you die. And when you wake up, you can tell me of every petty mortal sin you've ever done, of every wrong that's ever been done against you, because for some strange reason you've never had a problem opening your heart to me. Maybe it's because you know I'm listening._

* * *

It took a while, but he finally begun to heal. And as he healed, he began to talk. About everything, nothing—he couldn't help himself. He's was so happy to be alive that he felt he had to take advantage of it, and in the process, told the Watergirl (_Katara_) more about himself than he's ever told anyone, not even Uncle.

"My father was the one who gave me this scar."

"I'm sorry you're mother was killed by the Fire Nation; mine was too, if that means anything to you."

"You have really pretty eyes, you know."

The best part was, she _listened_ when he spoke. She didn't always respond, but he knew she was listening. He could tell by the way her eyes lit up and the amused chuckle she let out when he told her about the time he beat Azula at Pai Shu.

"Uncle's favorite tea was ginseng."

"I never wanted to hurt you or your friends. I just wanted to go _home_."

"I met a guy named Jet on the way to Bai Sing Sei. He wanted me to join his gang, the Freedom Fighters. I almost wish I had."

"The Avatar doesn't know how lucky he is to have you."

"I don't know how to thank you for what you've done."

He thought he might eventually run out of things to talk about, but he didn't.

And sometimes, when she thought he was asleep, she would talk back to him.

"You terrified me when I first saw you."

"You aren't the horrible monster I once thought you were, but I'm still not sure what to think about you."

"Sokka wants to kill you, but I won't let him. I don't know why."

"Aang hasn't woken up since Bai Sing Sei. We will die if he doesn't wake up soon. The comet is in less than a month."

"I wish you'd realize your father is a bastard who doesn't deserve your love."

* * *

In some ways, a lot of ways, he hoped he would never get better, because that would mean he never had to leave.

* * *

He woke up one day because he felt her tears falling from her face down to his.

"I wish I didn't have to say goodbye." She whispered, watching over him like she always did.

He closed his eyes and went back to sleep, pretending (_praying_) that he hadn't heard what she said.

* * *

When he woke up again, he felt as though he was waking up for the last time. It was the first time in (Days? Months? _Years?)_ that he hadn't woken up to soft hands and blue eyes, and he didn't like it. He was back where he was before, back at the place where he almost died, where Katara found him.

Azula stood over him now.

"I come back expecting to find a half-eaten corpse," She said darkly, crossing her arms. "Instead, I find you taking a nap."

She kicked him hard in the gut. He moaned, growled a few obscene words at her, and stood up, facing her eye to eye.

Azula huffed. "You are stronger than you look."

He still doesn't know if she meant that as a compliment or an insult.

"Come on. Father wants us back home as soon as possible." Then she turned and left, possibly hoping Zuko wouldn't follow.

He rubbed his eyes carefully. Had it all been a dream? No—it couldn't have been. It felt too _real_.

And yet—he looked around him carefully—where _was_ she? Where was _Katara_?

"Are you coming or not, Zuzu? Because I think the vulture-bees might eat you whether you're dead or alive."

He scanned his surroundings carefully one last time; when he could find no trace of Katara, no evidence that she had been there at all, he followed his sister towards the setting sun.

* * *

END

A/N: Enjoy.


	3. Sanity is Overrated

_I'll be the statue of a goddess in the palace of your birth, made of stone and gold and not alive, but you'll stare at me just the same, if only for the blue in my eyes._

* * *

He's going insane. 

For three weeks now, he's been back home. Three whole weeks. How or why doesn't matter to him anymore: all that matters is that it's warm outside, and the walls are red not green, and it's so very _home_.

(there are times, though, when it doesn't seem very much like home, days when an apartment in Bai Sing Sei's refugee section felt more like home, but he tries not to think about it very much, and pretends he doesn't miss Uncle's hearty laughter.)

It would figure, of course, that he as soon as he'd accomplished his goal of returning home, he'd start to go insane.

And he imagines it's probably Azula's fault, too, like always.

Three weeks ago, he thinks back, because it feels like it's been years not weeks. Three weeks ago, he didn't even think about the Fire Nation or honor or duty. Three weeks ago, all he knew were soft brown hands and sparkling blue eyes, and was perfectly happy with that.

And then Azula found him, and dragged him (rather reluctantly) back home to father, who (also rather reluctantly) restored Zuko's honor. While he had no doubt that his father and sister were probably trying to come up with the quickest way to get rid of him, he found himself facing a different problem. Somehow in the confusion and joy of returning home he had managed to _forget_ about the waterbender, the blue-eyed girl whose name sounded sweet on his tongue, had managed to keep his mind on something other than the sound of her laughter.

Then the statue appeared, and it all went downhill from there.

It isn't a grand statue, or even one of any importance. It's golden in color, in the shape of a young maiden who looks absolutely nothing like Katara in the daylight. Which it _shouldn't_, because it's suppose to be a statue of one of the lesser sun-spirits, the guardian tenjin of the Shui clan, one of the daughters of Agni.

_But_, but at night, when he's tired and walking back to his room, he swears it looks just like her. He thinks it might just be the fact that the statue's eyes are painted blue (of all color!) but he thinks they look identical. And because of the constant reminder, all he seems to be able to think about is _her_.

Her, Katara, who he know thinks he may be in love with.

It's driving him mad. He can no longer focus. All he can think about are brown hands, blue eyes. And that he never said thank you. Or got the chance to say goodbye. Spirits, he wanted to say goodbye!

So he packs his things one day, a surprise to everyone, and announces that he's leaving. It's either leave, or go insane.

"I have to find something." _Someone_. He tells them. "I don't know when I'll be back."

Azula stares at him in shock but doesn't complain. Father's expression he can't read, but Zuko thinks he may be laughing on the inside.

He doesn't care.

Now, all he needs to do is find her again.

* * *

END 

_(Shui is Chinese for water. Ha-ha.)_

Short chapter, I know, but at least it's something to get the ball rolling, no? I'm not entirely happy with it, but I suppose it serves it's purpose.

Next chapter: Jun! And maybe Katara. We'll see.

jak


End file.
